And It All Comes Back to the Old Deck Scrubber
by Featherain
Summary: North Italy lost his first love, and his only love, Holy Roman Empire. The boy who stole his first kiss, who holds his beloved deck scrubber. His new found friend, Germany, is someone North Italy treasures, but feels guilty if put at the same or higher level as Holy Roman Empire used to hold in his heart. Reborn! story of Holy Roman x North Italy x Germany. DC: I do NOT own Hetalia
1. Chapter 1

"_Really?"_

"_Yes."_

"_I'll wait for you, with plenty of sweets… Let's be sure we see each other again… right? I promise I'll wait! I'll wait forever! I'll wait, I'll wait, and I'll wait…"_

_The boy with the blond hair turned and started walking in the other direction away from the maid in the dress._

"_Um, stay healthy! And don't get hurt… and…" Italy stared as he sighed dreamily into the ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes._

"_I'll wait."_

* * *

_"AHH? I'M A BOY? Um… What should I do Hungary…"_

"_Isn't this ironic," the older girl giggled cheerfully and reassuringly to the smaller nation. "I had a very similar experience too… But either way, it doesn't matter, as gender can't break love."_

"_Really?" North Italy clutched a mop to himself. "I suppose so," he said, sighing happily in a carefree manner._

* * *

"_THE WAR ENDED! NEWS HAS ARRIVED!"_

"_Hm? Alright, let's hear it," Austria said as his fingers fidgeted nervously around his eyeglasses._

"_Ah…"North Italy stumbled across, trying to find Austria to ask something before he stopped, deciding to eavesdrop curiously behind a brick wall. _

"_It's about Holy Roman…"_

"_Eh?" Italy mumbled, heart fluttering up high in the air, hoping, just hoping that somehow, waiting this long of a time paid itself off._

"_**He's dead."**_

* * *

"Ah! Please don't hit me, I'll do anything! Please!"

He trembled with fight, shaking the wooden box that claimed to contain tomatoes. "Please! I'll do anything! Uh, uh, at least let me eat some delicious pasta before I die!" The northern part of Italy wailed in a frightened manner, panicking terribly as he flailed his arms around.

Face to face. _The ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes._

"Oh, if you know Grandpa Rome, you can't be bad! Sorry, I mistook you for your appearance –AH! I'M SORRY!"

North Italy didn't know any better than a scared mouse for many things. But, either eating too much pasta sauce had the ability to get into your brain or…

The way this new country shook his shoulders… felt familiar.

"Eh? Why won't you join with me to form the great new Roman Empire?"

"Italy! Stop fooling around! This is serious!"

"Italy! What are you doing fooling around in Hungary's dress? I'm trying to talk seriously here!"

"Eh? Ah, yeah Germany, I'm listening." Italy smiled brightly and a little stupidly, annoying the blond man once again. "Hey, how about we eat some passtaaa?" The reddish brown haired boy asked in a singsong voice, going completely off topic once again.

Italy kept his happy, naïve look plastered onto his face as Germany inspected him all over, as if he was capable of tricking those to bend under his will.

"Only this once." Germany curtly replied, before walking quickly towards his house as Italy raced happily followed by Japan.

"Veeee! If only you can treat us and relax like this more often, Germany!" Italy sang in a lazy manner, a slight sparkle seen in his eyes as he stared back at Germany's slightly blushing, but yet serious face.

_Holy Roman… Empire?_

North Italy quickly shook his head fiercely. It was true that when he visited Germany's house before, it was in the same location as Holy Roman's, but land was often switched between many countries, and Italy threw that thought out of his head long ago.

"I guess I'll start making the pasta now!"

"I suppose so," Germany sighed heavily, before his eyes flashed back and yelped as a caution. "Be careful of the flour! It's put at an odd angle –"

White powder covered Italy's hair and body like a snowman built in fresh snow.

"Wah! I'm sorry! I promise I'll clean it up! I promise!"

Shaking out of the soft powdery flour, Italy raced as if he was retreating from England, reaching hastily towards the closet as he felt his hands clutch tightly on a –

_Deck scrubber._

Italy dropped the wooden handle, letting it fall onto the ground with a huge clang before he took sense of what was happening and picked up the scrubber, using it to sweep the flour onto the dustpan.

_"Ah… Before you leave…"_

"_Hm?"_

"_Here!" The small maid quickly, and shyly pushed out the broom towards the boy dressed in fancy attire._

"_A… deck scrubber…? Ah… I understand now!"_

_"Yeah… and… if you don't mind… whenever you see this or hold it… I hope you'll always think of me."_

"Italy?"

"I'm sorry! I'm cleaning it up as quickly as possible!"

"Ah… Just get done with it fast."

The northern half of the Italian country gulped dryly, glancing at the deck scrubber nervously, before he dropped his carefree attitude and looked at Germany's sparkling sea blue eyes. _The ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes._

"H-Hey… Germany…"

"Yeah?"

"C-Can you t-tell me… how you got this deck scrubber? I-I thought it was cool! I'd really like one myself!" Italy covered up before he caught suspicious glances towards him.

"Well… I just remember it was there from as far back as I remembered. I wanted to throw it out, but I couldn't." The blond man said sternly, before he focused his attention to what Italy was doing. "Are you done cooking yet?"

"A-Almost!"

Maybe it was the lack of food that caused the dizziness; maybe it was the sudden flood of memories. But for whatever reason, his mind could only think of one thing in its slightly fuzzed up, bogus state.

The boy who stole his first kiss.

"There… and it's done! Now some seasonings, and wah… It looks so yummy… Germany! Japan! I'm done!" Saliva prodded his mouth, as he hurriedly set up the plates and the pasta up on the dining table while humming, trying to unlace the apron he had on.

"Huh, and yet you seem so much more dedicated in this than your training…"

"Thank you, this is always my favourite among all the other Western dishes."

"Eh? Thank you, Japan!" Italy said cheerfully. "I bet it even rivals big brother France's cooking now, heh!"

"I-Italy…" The blond commander stopped all of the sudden seeing Italy next to the deck scrubber; his brain starting to pound harshly as it formed mangled images of two small children.

"Take of the apron, it's starting to resemble more of a dress."

"Eh? But it doesn't even have frills! Oh well then…"

"Just… take it off and eat. And while you're at it, please stash away the deck scrubber. Please." Germany sighed, massaging his head tiredly. "I've had enough with seeing odd images of human beings."

"Ah? Are they cute?" Italy said curiously, cocking his head suddenly as he split a wide grin.

"If you're having headaches with images, it's best to tell me what they look like, as it could mean many things," Japan said worriedly, immediately stacking up supernatural manga books.

"One of them… I supposed looked like a small version of me," Germany said thoughtfully as he started to fork some cheesy pasta into his mouth.

Italy stopped midway in eating.

"Another one of them… was like some cute girl in a maid's outfit. I think she had the same hairstyle as you, Italy." The blond man concluded curiously before he dismissed the whole thing, as if he was only telling them what he saw to entertain them, and that he, himself didn't care much for it.

North Italy dropped his fork.

* * *

_Featherain... Okay, if you got this far, I applaud you for stayin in strong! This was a rushed, unproofread, and a piece of story which I may bang my head against the wall on how I managed to type this up without talking like an idiot straight for a week. My first Hetalia fic, if you enjoyed, you are too kind... xD._

_If you liked this, please review. If you dislike/like/thought this was alright and have some tips, comments, or critiques for me please review. If you hate this and you just need to tear the sight of this disgraceful fic from your eyes, I do suggest you click the back button in the top left corner, or the little 'x' on your top right corner. _

_Have a good day!_


	2. Reborn!

_Featherain... Unproofread, but I hope you'll still like it! Thanks to last chapter's reviewers..._

_Hetalia-EnglandthePirate_

_Yanelle_

_Thanks so much for reviewing!_

* * *

The fork clanged against the wooden floor loudly. Italy automatically gasped slightly in surprise and reached down to pick up the fallen fork in almost a hasty manner.

"Oh! Eheh, sorry Germany! My fault," Italy says, surprising himself with the calmness of his own voice. "How much longer do we have for lunch break? Can we take the rest of the day off? Aren't you tired? Shouldn't you be sleepy?" Questions were bombarded out of the reddish brown haired boy's mouth, spitting out from pure nervousness as Germany stared in a serious manner ahead.

"We should still train. We barely finished anything today –"

"Exactly why we should take the rest of the day off!"

"That makes absolutely no sense –"

"Aaaaahh… But I'm so tired, Germany!"

And it went on, the silly arguments that seemed to hit too close to home for Italy.

* * *

It wasn't like Italy already _fully_ believed Germany was Holy Roman Empire, except just reborn, it was more like he thought he was hallucinating and turning crazy due to desperation. It wasn't like there was so many coincidences to Germany being Holy Roman Empire, it seemed to fit each other more in a puzzle format in Italy's eyes, becoming more than just coincidences as he ticked it off each day. It wasn't like Grandpa Rome gave him a hint or something to Italy in his dreams; it was more like a huge clue that wanted to tease him.

When Italy asked in his dreams to Grandpa Rome if Holy Roman could visit him too, he merely got a, 'he's closer than you think' little sappy comment. While the boy couldn't figure out whether or not it was physically, or just emotionally, or if Holy Roman was just not wanting to visit him in his death…

It wasn't like Germany _just_ resembled Holy Roman… he looked exactly the same, except bigger and stronger.

"Did you know that countries could be reborn? As new countries? Ancient Greece just passed herself down to her son. My big brother nearly collapsed during a terrible time…But was soon reborn again as a younger version. He just regained his older memories by receiving a heart attack from Russia's chant." Japan immediately blushed slightly at his sudden long break of silence, sitting underneath the moonlight as memories washed over him.

"I could have chosen to join any Western countries to learn of their culture, but I specifically chose Germany and you… Because I had suspicions he was reborn from Holy Roman,," Japan continued on, but speaking faster as if he wanted to quickly stop his own talking. "Now, I can never really be sure. I'm not sure Russia would be the trick to reviving his memories…"

Italy stared upon Japan curiously, suddenly wishing there was pasta to keep him busy.

"I know I won't be able to do the trick, but it might be you," Japan muttered quietly, shocked at the amount of certainty in his own words.

Italy blinked at himself, walking slowly back into Germany's house where he walked past the snores Germany seemed to erupt. As if in a dreamlike, sleep walking, state, he walked closer to the kitchen, reaching for the handle…

Grabbing the flashlight, opening the door…

Searching around finding a bow…

Finding the dusty old bow he used to wear.

_HOLY ROMAN STOLE THIS?_

Now, it isn't the time to get mad at Germany for something he did as a child over hundreds of years ago; now it the time to go cosplaying and wear a dress.

Oh, heck, Italy just loved Hungary's dresses and still liked dressing up in them.

* * *

"Italy! Improper clothing for training! Do you expect to twirl your way through England's troops?"

"Err… Well, I brought this, Germany!" Italy cheerfully replied back nervously, wondering if this was a good idea as he looked over to Japan but only found the man staring ahead blankly.

"Not pasta –"

"No, this!" In a triumphant manner, he raised the deck scrubber high above his head in a sort victory stance.

Germany stared at it, blinking a few times. "Good improvising, Italy. When no weapons on hand, use what you can!"

Italy blinked half heartedly, starting to use it to scrub the ground helplessly. "What about scrubbing?"

"Blood is hard to scrub out sometimes," Japan commented calmly.

"Ah…" Italy sighed, taking the random fact while staring at the broom in a depressed manner. "I suppose I'll get out of this…" He said, looking down at himself in slight silly embarrassment.

"Nevermind," Germany sighed. "Just this once, as I honestly can't see how else it'll disrupt training. It just might be too fluffy."

"Like a bunny?" Italy asked hopefully.

"Yes. Like a bunny."

* * *

Like a bunny, like a puppy, like a kitten, it takes a while to get that coat to stay shiny, or to get shiny.

And sleek.

* * *

_Featherain... Sorry that this wasn't very much proofread! I'll be going to China soon, so I'll be very busy and not... erm... posting, and stuff like that. I'll try my best however!_


	3. Chapter 4

AN: Fic as been adopted by holygreatgrandparomanempire. Wow, am I late on informing you all this!


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